Lights, Camera, Rewind
by efronxhudgensx
Summary: Gabriella Montez left Albuquerque years ago to pursue her acting career and never once did she look back. Troy Bolton had been stuck in a small town, wasting his youth away at a minimum wage job as he tried to nurse his wounded ego from his cheating wife. When Gabriella returns home from Beverly Hills, will her childhood friendship with Troy rekindle despite their differences?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 01**

I thought I had everything I wanted in life. A thriving career, designers waiting for me to wear their newest and most fashionable clothes, being invited to all the Hollywood parties, landing a top spot on every award show. Most importantly, I scored well in the box office and had millions of loyal fans all around the world. I mean, who wouldn't want to be me?

That was what I thought until this very moment. Now I am stuck in this leather seat, stuck here playing a game on my phone while the meal in front of me was getting cold.

I could feel my ears popping every now and then from the change in air pressure—one of the many things I hated about flying. You would think someone like me would be used to that by now. I flew almost once a month. From one movie to another, one appearance to another, and one award show to another. Flying could very well be my most frequented hobby.

I usually didn't mind flying, I would drink a little hot chocolate, and take a sleeping pill and knock myself out until I arrived to my destination. But this time I could feel my insides boiling up every few seconds thinking about my life the moment this private jet touches the ground again.

My manager, Kelsi Nielson, is the reason why I hate my life right now and also the reason why I loved my life ninety-nine percent of the time other than this very moment.

"Gabriella Montez, the next Lindsay Lohan?" Kelsi read out loud while she looked through her phone. "Gabriella Montez refuses to drink anything other than Fiji water during world hunger fundraiser. Gabriella Montez throws two-thousand dollar Louboutins at waitress."

"Since when did we care about my hate mail?"

"Gabriella, these are magazine article headlines." She shook her head at me while her lips let out a sigh of frustration. "Wait till I get to your hashtag and mentions on Twitter."

 _Bullshit._ I didn't do any of that crap mentioned in these articles. Lindsay Lohan went to rehab and had a DUI, my record was as pure as a virgin, as clean as a bar of soap. I would never settle for Fiji water, all my water had to be Voss and in the glass bottle. And there was a huge difference between a hostess and a waitress.

"As your manager, this little exile is actually a huge loss. I could be getting potential new projects for you and signing contracts for endorsement deals. But instead I am here, on a private jet flying into Albuquerque and dropping you off for the next few months." Kelsi sat down in the seat next to mine while flipping through the pages of various gossip magazines, most likely searching for any mentions of my name. "But as your best friend," She set down the magazine before turning her head to face me directly. "I think it's best you take some time off away from Hollywood. I mean, do you even remember the last time you walked outside of the confines of your own home without the pressure of being photographed?"

"I don't need time off. What I need is to be back in LA, at the gym, and driving my Audi."

"Lord please bring the Gabriella I met in middle school back to life." Kelsi picked up the magazine once again and back into her so-done-with-your-shit attitude.

Kelsi and I weren't always like this. We were best friends in middle school and high school and the only person in my life right now who actually had the misfortune of having memories of me as a teenager. She was never the top of her class, never the girl that got the answers correct. But when it came to the streets, she was the smartest and quickest person I ever knew. Kelsi didn't let anyone step over her and was always determined to defend herself.

Do people actually sit here and reminisce about high school? I always thought of high school as a past life. I always thought Albuquerque was my past life. I could barely remember what my neighborhood looked like since the day I left. The only thing I could remember about my high school was the smelly gym where I could never make a single basketball hoop.

 _But Troy could, he always made all the hoops._

The other things, I tried not to think about too much. I didn't think about my high school friends. I tried my hardest to focus on my career and all the good things around me. Every time I thought about myself and my childhood in Albuquerque, I could feel a roadblock. A mental roadblock of who I really was.

* * *

After the short plane ride, I finally stepped my foot onto land once again. The dry land of Albuquerque made me realize how much I hated this place. No wonder I left and never came back.

I could barely remember any of the stores as we drove past them from the airport. When we drove into Maryville, the only place I recognized was Dory's Diner, the place where my friends hung out after school. There was a small town outside of Albuquerque where all the most boring but seemingly exciting things happened. I was born in a small town about forty-five minutes out of Albuquerque. A town called Maryville and a town with a population too small, a small population where everyone seemed to know everyone.

As I got out of the taxi, I spotted my mother waiting outside on the porch. Her smile grew the moment she saw the taxi stop in front of a place I once called home. Our house wasn't big, but it was sufficient for the two of us. The window panels were a cute light blue and the rest of the house had pastel vinyl paint. Since the last time I was here, nothing much has changed. The same tree just with a couple inches longer of a branch.

In fact, the house next to my mother's looked exactly the same. There were a few more trees, and a bush by the front door. And suddenly, I remembered one of the best memories of my childhood, my neighbor—Troy Bolton.

"Mija…" But before I could let my thoughts roam into outer space, my mother came up to hug me in open arms. My mother's scent was always comforting to me yet foreign now that I am twenty-five years old. She had the scent of a cheap body spray mixed in with hand sanitizer.

"How've you been, mama?" I placed a kiss on my mother's forehead. I was shorter than average at a whopping height of five foot two. But I towered over my mother and was always the taller Montez.

My mother mumbled some words in Spanish that I once understood all too well. She was happy, happy to see me, happy to know I was living with her again. I could hear her voice muffled in the locks of my hair as she kissed my cheek over and over again.

When my mother was done attacking my face with kisses and rubbing off my foundation, we finally got inside of the house. Sweet scent of apple cinnamon candles filled the air. I didn't remember it being this strong when I was younger. So strong I could almost taste the coupons she used to buy these generic branded candles from Walmart.

Pictures after pictures were hung up and placed on the mantel. All of them were of myself. My unsuccessful and freeloading childhood self. There wasn't a single picture of me in the present which is a more beautiful and refined me. The only me I can remember at this moment in time.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Kelsi walking in from the door, her face wincing at the strong cinnamon candle smell but a smile on her face nonetheless. "Maria, I have to get back home to LA. My husband and kids can't survive a day without me unfortunately and neither can my management company. So I'm going to leave Gabs here with you."

My mom left my side and walked towards Kelsi to give her a kiss on the forehead. "Gracias, mi otra hija." My mother loved Kelsi and never minded it when she stayed for supper or had one of our extended sleepovers.

This was it, I was going to be stuck here. If I dared to go back, dared to be photographed by a paparazzi in LA without notifying Kelsi, I could already feel her glare ripping my skin apart. For the sake of my already lined up project, I needed some time to myself. I needed to reenergize myself for my next role. That's what I tell myself every moment I'm stuck in this small suburb town outside of Albuquerque. I'm doing this for the sake of my career.

"I'll be back for you, Gabs. And in the mean time don't you think about coming back to LA. I don't need an article about you shaving your hair off and smashing an umbrella into a car window." Her gaze was firm on me every step she made out the front door. She was going to use my private jet to fly back while sitting in my leather seat and walking down the streets of LA while I was stuck here getting a new lung disease from inhaling too much candle scent and being stuck in my ugly childhood room.

What kind of best friend does that?

The kind that's your manager I suppose.

* * *

 ** _Hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter! New chapter will be coming out soon! I am a college student so I am very busy with things but I will try my hardest to update this story as much as I can. Please leave a review and let me know what you thought of this chapter!_**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 02**

Another day of work and another day of beating out the minimum wage.

My name tag is on, my name in all caps and printed clearly—Troy, and my coffee is in hand. A bagel in my other hand that I had to double fist the two to really get it down my throat and out the door under five minutes. Honestly why the fuck do old people like breakfast so much? Is it a rule that once you're over the age of sixty you can't sleep past six in the morning?

Every day all I see are old folks up at six in the morning, rise and shine with their newspapers, black coffee, grits, and two eggs over medium. I finally got down my own version of a breakfast, a bagel and instant coffee, before heading out the door and into my car.

Then I remembered why I wake up at six in the morning to deal with these old people. It was because of this car, this house, and the bagel I was eating. It all came out of my wallet and my paycheck every month.

Driving to work was the same everyday. Three stoplights, when one is green, the other two are always red and a right turn down the block and I'm here, in front of Dory's Diner.

Dory really needed to renovate the place. Every time I walk in, I feel like I just stepped into a 1970s based romantic comedy. The wallpaper is out of fashion and Dory herself is out of fashion with that dry 1970s disco haircut.

Dory would stand behind the counter, yapping away with the chef and ordering for us to refill coffee every two seconds. These are the things I am accustomed to deal with every day, making me regret that one decision I made when I was eighteen. _Why didn't I go to college?_

Wait, I know why. I married my high school sweetheart instead. I stayed in this small town and decided to live a white picket fence small town life. It sounded like the best idea at the time, but of course now I look back at it in retrospect, I realized how stupid I was.

Love isn't forever, but your education sure is.

Too late to think about that now with my car payment, insurance, and other costs of living on hand.

After clocking in, Dory immediately called me over to take a table by the far right corner. A regular. They called themselves Mr. and Mrs. Miller. An old couple who didn't know how to tip, just great.

After the breakfast shift, I counted the cash tips in my server apron, seventy-five dollars and twenty-three cents. Not too bad.

Living life from one shift to another, one paycheck until the next was the most horrible idea I had ever had in my life.

I thought I had it all, a beautiful blond wife and a love that seemed to last forever. But who knew one day she would sleep with one of your best friends and leave you? No one ever told me that the day I decided to marry her. No one told me that the day I decided to save up and finance for her Broadway dreams with my shitty just-above-minimum-wage job.

Now that the breakfast rush was over, it was time to refill every housewife's glass with diet coke and take their orders of the variety of salads on the menu with a fake smile on my face. Sometimes I see their wedding rings and I get jealous, my eyes start to water but I don't allow it. Not here, not in front of these people that lived in my town.

Perhaps it was my fault. I wasn't ambitious enough, I was a doormat. I let my wife have the best of everything while I basically ate the shit that she spat out and she finally wanted a real man to make her happy.

Was it the sex? Am I getting old? A beer belly? Fat? What compelled her to sleep with someone else?

"Well hello Troy." Martha the town's most famous soccer mom greeted me. Martha Cox went to my high school and graduated with honors but somehow, just like me, she chose a marriage over getting out of the town. I hope she knows that one day maybe her husband will cheat on her and she'd be stuck here just like me, regretting all those life decisions society puts on you at age eighteen.

"Hey, Martha. How are you today?" I whipped out of my notepad after setting down three diet cokes for Martha and Taylor McKessie. This is what sucked most about marrying your high school sweetheart in a small town, the friends all come with you, they stay here and know every little business about you.

"I'm doing super great. Kyle is turning two soon! Jason and I are going to throw him a party." She said excitedly, referring to her husband Jason Cross and her son Kyle. Maybe if my wife hadn't cheated on me, we would be happy like this too, maybe she'd be pregnant soon and I'd have my white picket fence dream just like Martha.

"How's Sharpay?" Taylor asked. The sound of my wife's name rolling off of Taylor's tongue was almost stinging. I hated hearing her name, thinking of her face and that bleach blond hair I once buried my face in when I embraced her. Betrayal was all I could taste in my mouth every time I heard her name.

"She's… fine." Of course they didn't know anything. Sharpay isn't friends with them, she never was. In fact, Taylor and Martha never liked the idea of us getting married. But after five years, they learned to accept it and set our differences aside to support me, their friend, in my life's endeavors.

"I saw her out and about with Zeke the other day." Martha shrugged as she set down the menu. "Maybe she's buying you a birthday gift…" She said playfully with a giggle that came after.

Right, my twenty-sixth birthday was coming up. The first time in eight years that I'd celebrate it without Sharpay.

I wish one of my best friends, Zeke, was in fact just out and about with Sharpay trying to buy me a birthday gift. Maybe in a perfect world, that would be the case. But in this world, which sucked by the way, they were out and about enjoying each other while I sat at home and cried over being cheated on.

Zeke was the only one of my friends who was ever fond of Sharpay and look where that got me. I used to think he was the one friend that could be happy for me no mater what, but it turns out he really had been thinking about fucking her this entire time. The scene I witnessed of walking in on Sharpay and Zeke having sex on my bed in my own house replayed in my mind and all the times Zeke tried to apologize to me are never enough, never enough for me to erase that scene out of my head.

"Anyway, we're ready to order, Troy." Taylor set down her menu also. She was the only one of my friends that actually did something with her life. She even influenced my best friend, Chad, to go to law school after his undergrad at the University of Albuquerque. "You guys serve breakfast all day, right?"

"Yep."

"Okay, I'll have the spinach, feta, and tomato omelet with a side of hashbrowns."

I scribbled the 'Sp, f chz, and tom oml' onto my notepad along with 'HB'.

"I'll have a Chicken Caesar Wrap with a side salad. No onions and light on the ranch please." Martha smiled when she handed me the menus.

"Thanks. I'll put those in." I took the menus from her hand and walked over to key in my order in the computer. Another day and another goal of beating that minimum wage of three dollars an hour plus tips.

* * *

I made a left turn after the last traffic light and pulled into the curb right up the sidewalk of my front door. A hundred and eighty-four dollars. Not too shabby for today's work.

The sun was down and the sky was dark but clear with all the stars in the sky. A classic Albuquerque night sky. I lived in a dessert after all. The lights in my house were off and dark. No wife, no one there to listen to my hard day's work. No one there for me to sleep next to at night.

 _I had to start getting used to this instead of being a sad sack of shit._

As I got out of the car, I could see a light in that bedroom on the top right corner of the Montez home next door. That very bedroom where magic happened when I was a kid. I couldn't help but smile at the memories whenever I look up at that room. It was the first time in years since I've seen it lit.

Gabriella Montez seemed like a memory so far away from now. She was in my life at times when everything was innocent. She was my neighbor, a neighbor that went out there and achieved everything I never could.

Gabriella is the first girl I knew, first girl I touched, first girl I slept next to—when I believed all my firsts would be my lasts.

" _When's your mommy going to be home?"_ I could hear her asking me in that voice of hers when she was five. It seemed like just yesterday when I would stay at the Montez home while my parents worked until late at night.

Ms. Montez worked from home. She was an accountant that did personal tax for others in town while my mom worked as a nurse at the hospital. My dad was a car salesman and they worked late hours which resulted in me staying at the Montez home constantly.

" _Why are you always reading that stupid book?"_ That was my favorite question to ask Gabriella as we sat in her room. I had Power Rangers on full blast on her small little TV that her mom put in her room to keep her occupied while she worked downstairs in her office.

She never stopped reading. Gabriella always read Junie B. Jones while I watched Power Rangers. I always wanted to snatch that book out of Gabriella's hands just to see how she'd react. _And one day I did._

She was sitting there reading that book of hers, one of those books that I swear she didn't exactly understand all the words. Gabriella always tried to overachieve even at the tender age of five.

I watched TV as I imitated the rangers, sticking my arm right out at Gabriella before snatching her book away from under her nose.

That set her running after me and all around the room. The room that seemed so big at the time with our small bodies. _"I'm going to destroy this book."_ I had my evil laugh imitated to a tee.

She chased after me screaming and trying to kick me the second I climbed onto her bed, jumping up and down in victory.

" _Choy…"_ She said in that baby voice, not really knowing how to pronounce the T and the R in my name. And her eyes started to water, her tears falling down her cheek right in front of me.

That was when I knew my weakness would be Gabriella. Her tears were my first weakness. And it was the first time I had seen a girl cry in front of me.

" _Gabi…"_ I stopped jumping as I sat down on her bed, letting the book fall loose onto her sheets. I no longer cared about destroying the book the moment I saw her tears fall.

" _I hate you."_ Life was simple when we were five. A stolen book resulted in hatred and tears were only for stolen books. And hate was such a simple word. But now, hate is filled with cheating wives and backstabbing best friends.

" _I'm sowy."_

" _Okay."_ Gabriella had the blackest and curliest hair I've ever seen. She was destined to be the first woman in my life.

And with those innocent tears and a simple 'okay', I never wanted to hurt her again.

How simple life was and how fucked up my life is now. I doubt Gabriella ever even thought about me ever. In fact, it had been a while since I thought about her, but what I didn't realize was that every thing I did had remnants of her.

She was the first girl I'd ever done anything with.

She's now rich and famous and successful. Everything that I'm not.

It's silly to even think about her as a five year-old in that little bedroom when she's long gone in a huge bedroom, eating all her favorite foods without lifting even a finger.

* * *

 _ **Thanks for reading once again! Please share this story with others! And hope you guys enjoy the story so far. Please review and let me know what you guys thought.**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 03**

I could see the bright day sky and my favorite yogurt shop almost in arms reach. My Audi parked in place and my favorite non-fat organic soymilk frozen yogurt awaits inside. The Californian sun was always torture but at least it was all just dry heat.

I could almost push the door open and get to the counter before my eyes shot open to the view of my ceiling fan. Oh how I want to be back in that dream again. I closed my eyes again and tried to fall asleep to dream the same dream. But of course, this never works.

When I first left Albuquerque, I used to have dreams being back here in my room and in a boy's arms. Not just the arms of any boy, but the arms of Troy Bolton. Leaving Albuquerque was hard for many reasons and nine of the ten reasons involved a boy named Troy Bolton. It was in this very bed that I laid in the arms of Troy Bolton, in the arms of my first friend, first love, and my only memorable neighbor.

From watching Power Rangers while jumping on my bed to lying here together as teenagers instead of doing homework, we did it all. Suddenly, I thought about him and could feel myself missing his presence. I didn't miss him in the way of a lover, not even as a friend. It was a longing, a longing for a better version of the same setting. The last time I slept in this bed, Troy was here and the memories of this home reminded me of him. It's strange how someone so distant and foreign from you now could have mattered so much in the past.

But missing someone is also such a weak action. We shouldn't need anyone just to survive. From now on, I can only miss things. I miss my car, my gym, and my favorite organic frozen yogurt. I miss my wardrobe that spanned bigger than my childhood bedroom and I missed my Beverly Hills home.

This place is a shithole. It smelled of old wood and burnt beans all the time. Not to mention the excessive use of cinnamon apple candles in the living room. It reeked of tasteless decorations and sometimes I wonder how I could miss this place so much when I first moved to Los Angeles.

A caramel macchiato on ice is exactly what I needed right now. That smooth and sweet taste of caramel plus the creaminess of the milk made my mouth water. Except the closest Starbucks was literally five miles from here. There were barely any franchises or chain stores around here. Maryville town government had a desire to keep the small businesses around instead, giving it a less urban setting from the urban sprawl around us. In theory, it is a good idea. It keeps the small businesses alive and gives the small town of Maryville a homey feel when compared to the bustling city south of us called Albuquerque.

But this was certainly not a good idea when you're craving a caramel macchiato on ice with no form of transportation. My mother had gone out to the store this morning, leaving me here with just my legs and not a single friend.

It all comes back down to what kind of best friend slash manager just leaves their world-famous actress best friend in the middle of fucking no where.

But I have to deal with this for the sake of my career and my sanity—that is if I don't become insane from being trapped here in the hells of cinnamon apple candles.

Since there is no way I can get to my beloved caramel macchiato unless I want to sacrifice my mental health and my legs, I can only compromise and try to make a tasty coffee out of already grounded Folgers coffee in a plastic jar.

I walked down the stairs and into the kitchen with a yawn. My hair is a mess but who the fuck even cares to look at me besides my own mother nowadays. My breath reeks of morning and ten-hour old mouthwash aftertaste as I started pouring in milk and some sugar to make my hillbilly version of a caramel macchiato with Folgers.

This is going to be one hell of a drink made by someone whose been using a Keurig for the past five years. I drank a lot of coffee to stay skinny and minimize my appetite whenever I had to diet but never did I have to make my own.

I didn't even used to drink coffee back when I left this town at seventeen. Busy schedules and demanding diets in Hollywood caused me to start my lovely caffeine addiction.

Addictions caused many issues in Hollywood. From cocaine to alcohol to heroin, I've seen it all. I've seen costars near their death because of a wild night and after-parties fueled with MDMA. When it comes to drugs, I could be an expert without ever even ingesting it.

I sipped on my makeshift caramel macchiato and almost choked at how disgusting it was. _Too much milk and not enough sugar._

Looking past the disgusting macchiato I just made, there are certain things about Albuquerque that reminded me of Los Angeles.

The sunlight outside reminded of Los Angeles.

It is bright and dry, the clouds danced on the blues and I could almost feel the heat from looking at the brightness of it all. I needed to step outside and at least feel the Californian heat or else I might just die from drinking this disgusting drink while inhaling the permeant candle scent in the house.

The front porch is always nice and shaded. The heat isn't unbearable but definitely can be a little cooler. At least the weather is the same. Thank the lord I'm not from Canada or Alaska or some place with blocks of ice to shovel in their driveway. There are many things I can't stand—Dasani bottled water, cheap perfume, drugstore makeup, and cold weather. If Los Angeles was located anywhere above forty degrees longitude north, I would absolutely drop my acting career and move to Miami without question.

Enjoying the heat on my skin and the sunny weather distracting me from my negativity, I almost forgot how disgusting this drink was when I neared it towards my lip to take a sip again. Under the sun, I could pretend I was drinking a real macchiato while standing outside my Beverly Hills home.

That was until loud noises of faint shouting completely disturbed my happy place. My attention darted towards my left to find the familiar boy that is now a man, standing outside of his front door as a blond woman stormed out with two large duffle bags.

And there he is, Troy Bolton in his ultimate man form, standing outside of his home shirtless and angry with all those testosterone going. It seriously made my own hormones race out of my body a bit just seeing that sight. I am no longer a hormonal teenage girl who drooled over the Jonas Brothers back in the 2000s. But boy does the sight of a grown blue-eyed Troy Bolton shirtless outside of his home make me travel back in time.

"I will call the cops if you do that again." I can hear him yell after the familiar blonde. I studied the blonde's face as carefully as I could from a distance. I knew her, I had to have known her. She still has the same blond curls as before, the same signature Barbie pink lipstick, and the same strut even as she stormed outside of a home angrily. She is Sharpay Evans— public enemy number one of my adolescence.

I was a quiet girl who read books and minded my own business for the most part. I wasn't good at speaking, just writing and being first in the class. The only person that could ever beat my score in the Scholastic Decathlon was one of my best friends Taylor McKessie. Taylor and I were close friends due to our similar interests in academics and literature. We slowly started merging our friends together to create a group of teenagers that hung out regularly at Dory's Diner. The gang included my best friends Kelsi and Troy, Troy's best friend Chad and Zeke, Taylor's best friends Martha and Jason, and Jason's best friend and also Sharpay's brother Ryan.

Sharpay was the queen of musical theatre and because I beat her one time for the lead role, she started sabotaging all my high school years. Call it immaturity at its finest or high school musical theatre gone too far, or Sharpay Evans being a big fucking bitch. Not only did she egg my car, TP my house, but she also tried to put laxatives in my drink before the opening night for the show. I tolerated it all and minded my own business. That was until the last day I was in Albuquerque when I dumped red paint on her after she got out of her convertible right before school started for the day.

And the rivalry was inevitably paused due to the beginning of my career as an actress.

But like natural animal instinct, my blood started boiling the moment I started thinking about Sharpay Evans. She is just a few tens of feet away from me. I became a world famous actress but she was still stuck in this shitty town. But what is she doing coming out of Troy's house this early in the morning?

"Fine, call the cops on me. I'll just mess my hair up a bit, tear my shirt up and tell him you fucking assaulted me. Let's see who he believes." Sharpay threw the bags in the back of her car that was parked on the curbside of the road.

"I'll tell him you're trespassing." He yelled back at her even louder. There is so much tension but I can't pinpoint whether all this angry tension was good or bad. It is the type of tension that can either result in powerful makeup sex or an ugly split.

"Fuck you, Troy. Don't be an asshole. This is my house too. I'm just trying to get my bags from my house. Can you drop the aggressive tone every time I come by and pick up what's rightfully mine?" Sharpay got inside of the car and started the ignition which caused Troy's words to go to waste under the loud engine. "This is still my house, Troy!"

The rest of their conversation or yelling match was harder to hear with Sharpay's car turned on. I was so interested and drawn to my neighbor's drama that I forgot how visible I was to them as well. When I realized that I, Gabriella Montez, Academy Award winning world famous actress, is standing right out in the open with no makeup on and greasy hair while drinking a cheap cup of coffee stalking my neighbor's love quarrel, it was a tad bit too late. Troy's eyes already connected with mine for what seemed like something shorter than a second, but the reaction it gave me was beyond that one second of brief eye contact. When those blue eyes zapped into the soul of my brown orbs, they sent shivers down my spine and a weak zinger in my legs.

I've been exposed by my neighbor. I've been spotted with my hair unwashed and my makeup-free face. I've been seen looking like a thirsty homeless woman. "Shit." I cursed under my breath and rushed back into my house, slamming the door shut right away. How can I be so stupid? What if the paparazzi already found their way to Albuquerque and was taking pictures right outside? How could I be photographed looking like this? I'm the fucking queen of romance and action movies, not the queen of this town. I didn't belong here, this is not my territory.

Should I be excited that Troy saw me or should I feel embarrassed? I looked like shit out on my porch and how creepy would it be if you found your neighbor watching you outside shirtless while yelling at another woman? Fuck, that sounded too barbaric, of course it wasn't okay at all.

I set my cup of coffee down on the kitchen counter and peaked outside through a window towards Troy's front yard again.

He was walking towards my house as Sharpay drove away. He walked closer and closer and I could hear my heart beat quicker and quicker until he stopped completely. He stood there for a moment, looking up at the second floor and then turned back around towards his own home.

He definitely noticed me, he saw my eyes and I saw his. Most importantly, I saw him with my worst high school enemy—my first enemy of my twenty-six years of life. They had to be married or in a serious relationship to be living together.

Troy Bolton and Sharpay Evans? Is this even real? How the fuck did they even end up together and what is actually happening in this small town? Ever since I left, I haven't kept up with any of them. With my busy schedules and privacy issues, I tried not to use social media too personally. Now I regret not adding my high school friends on Facebook. Had I known this unlikely couple became a real thing, I wouldn't have watched them like an idiot.

And that was when reality crushed me completely, I'm not the only one who has changed, Troy has too. Maybe I was already forgotten, so forgotten and into the forest of oblivion that he married the one person that try to destroy my adolescence.

* * *

 _ **Thanks for reading and thanks for all the feedback! Please review and let me know what you guys thought!**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 04**

The coffee stain on my apron is going to be a tough one to clean up. Fuck Dory for making us wear red aprons. Why can't we wear black aprons that make stains practically invisible? Instead, she makes us wear these ugly red aprons that make us look like we are in a 1950s diner. I actually hate my job sometimes. Maybe this was a sign to look for a new one, a new start after being a married man for six years.

No one ever wrote a manual on how to live your life when you are about to be divorced at twenty-six without a college degree. You hear about young divorces in Hollywood all the time except they involved millions of dollars in settlement. I wish I could have millions of dollars to fling around like that. I wish it didn't hurt me so much to give your cheating wife twenty million dollars.

I got out of my car with my coffee-stained apron in hand to find the light of the right-most bedroom on the second floor lit again. I could have sworn I saw Gabriella out on the porch a few mornings ago. But then again, why would she be here? Maria always had free plane tickets to go visit Gabriella out in LA, Gabriella literally had never been back in this town since she left that hot Albuquerque summer day of 2006. Maria must be cleaning out the room or something. The last time I was over at Maria's home, she invited Sharpay and I over for some of her famous brownies. Pictures of Gabriella were everywhere in her home and Maria never left the topic of her beautiful daughter. She was the apple in her eye and Maria couldn't be prouder than any other mother on earth.

How could you not be proud of Gabriella? She made it out of this town with her own efforts and is making millions of dollars. Maria always insisted that she loved her home and didn't plan to move to California any time soon. She loved her house and loved her garden in her backyard. She wasn't about to give it up for any million-dollar mansion in the world.

The lights in the room stayed lit for the rest of the night. While I was washing out the stain on my apron with every type of soap I could find in my house, I could see a shadow through the curtains while looking at it through my kitchen window. Maybe it really is Gabriella.

Of course I know what she looks like. She was all over the news and all over magazines. But I'm a hundred percent positive she had no idea what I looked like nowadays. I would like to think I got better looking since my seventeen-year old mid puberty face and figure.

Looking out the window and into her room made me nervous and my palms sweaty. The possibility of Gabriella actually existing next door was enough to bring me back to my teenage self. There was always something unfinished between us, we never said a proper goodbye or see you again. We never spoke after she left. Our friendship, our love, and everything we had simply stopped existing.

I could remember vividly that one time when I was a freshman in high school, she left one of her curtains open and I could swear I got no homework done that night. She was practicing her musical audition lines in front of the window with just her underwear on.

 _When I was fifteen, just a glimpse of naked female dermis made me have a raging boner, much less seeing Gabriella half naked for more than five whole minutes._

" _Pretty sure Belle from Beauty and the Beast sings with her clothes on?" It took many trials and errors until I typed that sentence into my phone without sounding like a complete pervert. I didn't want to sound like I've been watching her, but at the same time I wanted to see her reaction knowing I've seen her by her window._

 _Once I hit send, I could see Gabriella looking back towards her bed to pick up her phone. The moment she laid her eyes on her phone, she looked back up again and into my eyes of where I was standing—doing the dishes while my parents watched a re-run of American Idol._

 _She looked back down onto her phone to type a sentence back quickly. My phone buzzed and I wiped my hands clean of dish soap again to read and reply to her text. "You are such a pervert, I'm going to come over and tell your parents right now and then I'm going to see the embarrassment on your face for the next week."_

 _My eyes widened in panic as I looked towards my parents and then up at her window again. She was leaving her room, now with sweatpants and a t-shirt on. Before I could go distract my parents, the doorbell rang. My mother rushed to get the door while I stood there already embarrassed at what was about to come._

 _Damn myself for wanting to tease Gabriela and embarrass her, but in return I was about to get served with my own medicine times thirty._

" _Hello, Gabriella. Is everything alright?" My mother asked her, a little confused as to why she was over at this time of night. I could only see the back of my mom's head but I could see Gabriella's smirk in full view._

 _I couldn't do anything at this point, if I tried to stop my mother from talking to Gabriella, my mother would notice my raging male part._

" _Oh everything's fine, Lucille. I was practicing my lines in my room for the audition."_

" _Troy told me about your plans to audition! I think you'll do great, honey." Gabriella was my closest friend aside from Chad, she was always over doing homework and hanging out with me and Chad. My mother loved her just like a daughter she never had._

" _Thanks, Lucille. As I was saying. While practicing, I noticed that maybe your son looking up at my window while he was washing his dishes and may I add that I was in my underwear. Now I don't want to open my curtains for the next four years."_

 _I could see my mother shake her head in disapproval before she turned around and burned her glare into my face. "Troy Alexander Bolton…" Oh shit, I felt my mother looked at that one forbidden part of my lower half._

 _And that taught me to never mess with Gabriella the same way again. She was a vixen, no longer the quiet nerd I grew up with._

These memories always put a smile on my face. They were a much simpler time that was for sure.

My phone buzzed as I dried my hands on the towel. Reaching my hand down into my pocket, I slid the screen to read a text message from Chad.

"Let's get some drinks, hoops."

A drink is exactly what I need. From thinking about how annoying Dory is, my unfaithful wife, to thinking about my first love, I needed some time off from thinking about women in general.

* * *

"I just don't know how to pop the question." Chad took another swig of his beer as I listened to his predicament. "How did you do it, man?"

Another reminder of my marriage, seems like there's no way to get around it. "Well… Sharpay is not that hard to impress. I bought tickets to her favorite Broadway musical and popped the question during intermission." To think how in love I was with Sharpay at the time made me sick with nostalgia. If only things didn't fall off the tracks. We used to be in love, but now we screamed at each other every time we see each other and all I could do was act like everything was still okay between us in front of our friends.

I'm too embarrassed to even admit to myself that I am too pathetic to keep my wife around and too stupid to know they've been fucking for months before I caught them.

"I don't even know how to impress Taylor. We've been together for nearly ten years and I still get impressed with everything she does. But I think everything I do is just dumb to her. She's just such an independent woman." Chad sighed out in frustration. That, he was correct on. Taylor is an impressive woman. She got through law school and even motivated Chad to go to school for accounting and finance and pushed Chad to climb up the corporate ladder to become the head accountant of the company he worked for.

"I think she's easier to impress than you think. Maybe she is traditional and prefers just a classic proposal. Candlelight dinner kind of thing, you know." I took a sip of my beer as well. The bar was playing some country song in the background that I could care less about. This is one of the things you get used to when you live in a small town like Maryville. Every where you went, people played some red-neck music and drove a beat up truck though I'm a victim of owning a beat-up Corolla myself.

"Maybe." Chad nodded as he seriously considered what I said to him. "On another note, I haven't seen Zeke around lately. He's fallen off the grid lately."

That's because he is purposely avoiding me. "He's probably busy." Fuck these friendships that fall apart over a woman. I could care less about whether he was busy or not. Sleeping with your best friend's wife is the biggest and last thing he'll ever impact in my life. The scene of Sharpay in her black lace bra while on top of Zeke in my bed replayed in my mind again. When can I ever stop seeing that scene in my head? When will I forget how vividly I remember it? Just that one single thought compelled me to chug my entire beer down. I want to forget about this, forget about all this bullshit.

"Hit me with a shot of vodka." I told the bartender while Chad looked at me in shock.

"You okay, man? You haven't gotten drunk since you got married."

Marriage ruined me, marriage ruined my life. "I'm fine. I'm just stressed about work." Another lie because I still can't admit to people about how much of a failure I am at marriage.

The bartender sets down a shot glass and I took it right away. I could feel the alcohol burn from my mouth down to my throat. The after taste that came with it reminded me of the days of partying in high school and the times I took a shot at a high school party and got rip-roaring drunk.

I didn't need a chaser, I just needed another shot. The warm sensation of the alcohol traveling down to my stomach made me feel more alive then working those long hours at the diner or lying about my flawed marriage.

"Dude, easy." Chad sipped on his own beer as he chuckled at my sudden bravery.

I sighed out after taking the shot and my thoughts traveled back to Gabriella. "You remember Gabriella?"

"Montez?" Chad's smile grew big as he remembered the times they hung out together. "Of course. Montez is the coolest girl I've ever been friends with."

"She's an actress now huh."

"Well someone's feeling nostalgic. She's been gone for like nine years. Last time I heard about her, she won an Oscar for this drama based on a true story about a famous Hispanic journalist."

"Yeah, don't you sometimes wonder what she's up to?" We never told Chad about our relationship. Gabriella and I were one of those things that just happened. It happened over a long period of time and growing up together. There was never an official day we decided to become a couple, it happened gradually and out of the vision of our friends.

"She's better off than us that's for sure. No wonder she left this town and never came back. People in town sometimes say she just left her mom here and took off to become a millionaire in Hollywood."

"Maria says Gabriella sends her gifts all the time and they talk a lot." I found myself defending her despite not seeing her for so long. I never believed those rumors because Maria always spoke so fondly of Gabriella whenever she invited him over for dinner.

"I'd like to believe so. I mean Montez was a really great girl and we had so many great childhood memories together with the gang. It's funny to see the rest of us still here but one of us world famous." Chad finished off the last bit of his beer. "We used to play in her mom's garden all the time and I remember her mom had the most beautiful peonies… that's it. Taylor said her favorite flowers were peonies."

Finally, something clicked for Chad. His fear of popping the question seemed to have disappeared with an epiphany like this.

"I'm going to buy her a bunch of peony flowers and decorate our entire house with them and make a trail of peonies that lead to the ring."

"You do that." Chad is always full of crazy ideas that sound better than actually put to action. This was just another classic Chad idea.

As Chad rambled on about different ways to use peonies to propose to Taylor, my thoughts are filled with women again. How Dory basically barks when she pesters me to pick up my order or how Sharpay is probably fucking Zeke this very moment or how Gabriella Montez might actually be dancing around in her underwear inside her room, right above my kitchen window.

* * *

 _ **Sorry for the long wait guys, I swear I didn't forget about the story. I got really busy with my midterms and such and my finals are coming up as well so I'm gonna be pretty busy. Although I can't promise to update this story weekly like I did with my last one, I will be updating it every couple of weeks. I just need to find time to write after I study and do all my homework. I go to a pretty competitive research university so finding time to do extra things can be a challenge. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and sorry for the long wait! Please review and let me know your thoughts, they mean the world to me!**_


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